Chapter 15
Fearful for her mistress’s safety, Agata consulted Nadim. “If my lady has a son they both stand in danger,” she fretted, having now learned that often the wives of unwanted princes were also disposed of by a new sultan. “Only God can predict the child’s sex. Better there be no child then.”
“Your mistress is young yet,” Nadim said. “There is time for a child when she can feel safer. If she birthed a son and there was danger, the prince would not leave them behind. Still we can prevent any conception temporarily, Agata. Is that what you wish?”
“In Florence there was a woman who made a potion to do just that. My aunt, Fabia, sought just such a nostrum for my mistress’s mother when she wished to rest between the births of her seven children.”
“Yes, there are such things available here as well,” Nadim said. “Would you have me find such elixir for our lady?”
“Oh, Nadim,” Agata replied, worrying aloud. “Do we dare to interfere with God’s will if we do this? And yet I fear for my mistress.”
“There is no harm in protecting her for the interim, Agata,” the old eunuch said, soothing the servingwoman.
“It will not render her sterile like the others, will it?” Agata asked.
“Maysun and Shahdi were made sterile by a physician in the sultan’s house,” Nadim explained. “Our potion will simply prevent a child temporarily.”
“Then we must do it,” Agata replied.
“First you must make certain she is not already with child. The prince has used Azura most regularly and enthusiastically since she arrived,” the eunuch pointed out.
“Her moon link broke this morning,” Agata said.
“It was on time?” he asked.
“Exactly. She will bleed for four days. No more,” Agata told him.
“Then tomorrow you will begin giving her a strengthening drink,” Nadim said. “I will gather the ingredients myself and mix it for you before she awakens.”
Agata nodded her agreement.
For the first time in many months her mistress was happy.
She was wed to the man she loved, and if she had lost her family by this action she had gained a new one.
Used to the company of other women, Azura was comfortable with Maysun and Shahdi.
The three women had settled into a reasonably easeful relationship.
Maysun actually seemed content with the situation.
Shahdi waited and watched for what she hoped would eventually be her turn.
While the first two wives knew that Amir loved Azura above all others, her presence had brought him home again.
He had not been able to take them to Florence, for two women, each called wife, would not have been tolerated, even if he was a foreigner.
After several years of being alone for most of the year, Maysun and Shahdi were content to have him back, to have his attentions if only for a few days a month.
There was always the chance that Amir would get a child on Azura.
Then the first two would share him until well after the child was born.
Amir found himself pleased at how well his household had settled itself with the addition of Azura to his harem.
He hunted. He rode and oftentimes he took Azura with him, which at first surprised Maysun and Shahdi.
While they had both been raised in a tribal atmosphere, it was the rare woman who rode a horse.
Women walked or rode in carts. They watched from a terrace now as Azura and Amir, accompanied by Darius, raced along the sandy edge of the stony beach below their small palace.
Their enjoyment of the scene was suddenly interrupted by Diya al Din.
“Are they on the beach?” he asked, looking down to see for himself. “You!” He reached out to grasp at a servant’s arm. “Go down and tell the master he must come at once. A messenger has just come from Istanbul. Hurry! Run!” Turning, he said to the two women, “Go back to the harem, ladies.”
“What messenger?” Maysun asked him.
“This is not your concern, woman,” the head eunuch said.
“Do not be so pompous, Diya al Din,” Shahdi told him. “If it has to do with our husband, then it is most certainly our concern.”
“I do not know what the missive he carries says, but he wears the badge of our great lord and master, Sultan Mehmet,” the head eunuch responded.
“The sultan is old. Who knows what it is about, but until the prince comes we must wait for answers, and pray there are no Janissaries behind this messenger.”
“Better we pray the sultan’s gardeners are not behind the messenger,” Maysun said nervously.
“Allah forfend!” Shahdi cried, frightened, for she knew, as did everyone, that the men who so lovingly tended the sultan’s gardens were also his personal executioners.
“There is no need to fret,” Diya al Din said, with more conviction than he felt.
“Where is this messenger?” Maysun asked.
“I have put him in the prince’s antechamber,” Diya al Din told her.
“There is a spy hole into that chamber,” Shahdi murmured. She caught Maysun’s hand. “Let us go now so we may watch and listen.”
“I will come with you,” Diya al Din said. “I was not aware there was a spy hole there, ladies. How did you know it?”
Shahdi smiled mischievously, but did not answer him.
The three hurried to the prince’s apartments and secreted themselves so they might listen.
They could see the messenger pacing back and forth as he waited for Prince Amir.
When the recipient of the message entered the chamber, the messenger bowed and slipped down upon one knee, holding out the rolled parchment to Amir.
He took it, opened it, read it, and then said, “How long did it take you to come from Istanbul?”
“Two days, Highness. I rode hard,” was the reply.
“Do you know if the sultan still lives?” Amir asked.
The messenger shook his head. “He was not in Istanbul, Highness, but had crossed over to Bursa and begun his spring campaign.”
“Then who sent you?” Amir wanted to know.
“I do not know, Highness. I was simply dispatched from the palace,” was the reply.
“This is not good. Not good at all,” Diya al Din murmured softly.
“Hush!” Maysun hissed at the eunuch.
Realizing that the messenger was just that, and knew nothing more, the prince sent him to the kitchens to be fed. There was no reply necessary to the information he had just received. “Go and eat. Rest the night before returning to Istanbul,” he told the man.
The messenger arose, bowed, and went off. Amir read once again the parchment he had received. Azura slipped from an alcove where she had been standing and went to her husband. She looked up at him questioningly, a gentle hand on his arm.
“Go and find the others,” he instructed her, “and tell Diya al Din to gather the household. I will speak with them all.”
While he spoke, those hidden at the spy hole hurried off to be where they should be. Azura came into the harem and called to her two companions. “I know no more than you do,” she said. “Come, and let us learn what the message brought to our husband said.”
“What message?” Shahdi asked innocently.
Azura laughed. “Do not dissemble with me, Shahdi. I found that spy hole weeks ago. Florentine homes tend to have them, and I recognized the difference in the texture of the wall,” she told them.
“And I heard you. Even using his softest voice, Diya al Din is recognizable. How did you know the spy hole was there?”
Maysun chuckled at the chagrined look on Shahdi’s face, but said nothing.
“There was nothing to do all those years our husband was away. I know this little palace inside and out. Probably better than anyone,” Shahdi admitted.
Together the three women joined their husband and the gathered household in the salon used for visitors.
“I have received a message from Istanbul,” Amir began.
“The sultan had only just begun his spring campaign when he took seriously ill. I cannot tell you if he yet lives, or has passed into the next life. My uncle, Prince Bayezit, was with him. I expect we will hear something further in the coming days.”
A low moaning arose from the house slaves, and even the two chief eunuchs looked distressed by what they had just heard.
“There is nothing to fear,” Prince Amir assured them.
“Go now about your duties. Diya al Din, see that a watch is set on the road both day and night. I want no more surprise visitors.” He turned to his women.
“Come,” he said and left the room, returning with them to the harem quarters, where he sat down in the women’s dayroom, inviting them to join him.
He would elucidate further in private with them.
Maysun told the slaves to bring mint tea and sweet cakes. When they had, she dismissed them, asking Agata to make certain they went. Shahdi took Amir’s small turban from his head while Azura settled the pillows about and around him. The refreshments came and finally Amir spoke to them.
“If he dies there will be a struggle for the succession,” he told them.
“My uncle will win, for while my father is the better tactician, the Janissaries are on my uncle’s side.
He knows how to delegate authority far better than my father, who is too modern a man and looks to the West. My uncle, while forward-thinking, is a traditionalist. The Janissaries prefer tradition, like campaigning in the spring. ”
“You will have to tread lightly,” Maysun warned.
“What if your uncle sends his gardeners to you?” Shahdi asked.
“I do not believe he will, since I have no intention of supporting my father,” Amir replied. “Bayezit is a fair man and he knows me well.”
“He has three living sons,” Maysun reminded Amir.
“From three different mothers, and of the three only my cousin Selim is suited to rule. Ahmed enjoys life too much, and Korkut is a scholar.”
“Selim is the youngest,” Shahdi noted.
“If my grandfather has died, it is my uncle who will rule. His sons will have to wait their turn,” Amir said, “and Selim will be vigilant, I am certain.”
“You are the eldest of Mehmet’s grandsons,” Maysun pointed out.